


A Light That Never Goes Out

by cats_mother (phoebesmum)



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M, Old Age, Porn Battle, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-27
Updated: 2010-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebesmum/pseuds/cats_mother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things that endure, no matter what else is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Light That Never Goes Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written June 2009 for oxoniensis's porn battle; prompt: _years gone by_.

Do you remember how we used to fuck like bunnies? Horny, lust-crazed bunnies, bunnies that hadn't seen another bunny in a month of Sundays? We were young and reckless back then, full of life, full of passion, hot-blooded and hot-headed. We had so many good, sane, rational reasons not to be together – our careers, our reputations, my _wife_, for crying out loud – and only one not-so-good reason not to be apart, but that was the reason that overcame all the others: we couldn't help it.

We couldn't help ourselves, couldn't keep our hands off each other. We were forever sneaking off into empty offices, dragging one another into stationery rooms and janitors' closets, kissing so hard that I swear I don't know how neither of us ever lost a tooth or broke a nose, pretty much sucking the air out of one another's lungs, sweaty fingers clutching and fumbling, dragging shirts from pants, wrenching open buttons and zippers, your hand on my cock, my mouth on yours …

Remember when we figured out how to jam the elevator in between floors? Remember when the network apologised, my god, _apologised_ to us that they were cutting costs and we'd have to share a hotel room? Remember how many times we screwed up our timing and barely made it to the anchor desk before we were due on air? You think anyone out there watching ever noticed that some days we were flushed and breathless and our hair was a disaster?

Allyson noticed, for sure. I can still hear her, cussing us out. I wonder if she ever guessed what'd happened to all her hard work?

Good times, my friend. Good times. I remember it all. I remember it as though it were yesterday.

There's the thing. It's yesterday I have trouble remembering.

Not you, though. You still have perfect recall – when it suits you. You smile up at me from your pillow, and that sweet, crooked smile, its wry acknowledgement that the universe is all a great, big joke and that we're the butt of it, that's still the same smile that rocked me back on my heels the first day I met you, when you were a kid of eighteen and I was a mature, experienced …

Idiot. What I put you through. What I put us _both_ through, with my lies and my doubts and my uncertainties. How come those things never fade?

How come you never lost faith? Thank god you didn't, but – why? What made you believe I was worth it?

"Yesterday?" you say. Your voice is tired now, frail, but when would you ever let that keep you from talking so long as you had something to say – or, come to that, even if you didn't? "Not worth remembering. Woke up. Good news: still alive." Your hand, bony and liver-spotted as my own, reaches for mine. "Bad news: still old."

That's how it goes. There's no cure for that, any more than there was ever any cure for my loving you. They can't restore my memory, they can't bring back your mobility. But we have one another. After all these years we're still together. In spite of everything, against all the odds, in spite of _me_, we made it to the end.

That's the thing that makes this life of ours still worth living. That's what keeps me sticking around.

And your smile, that smile and the light in your eyes: those are the things I will never forget.

***


End file.
